[open]

[heirring]

WHO: Flint, Wysteria, Miriam, Cassius & You
WHAT: Catch-All
WHEN: Post-dreams, nebulously Guardian-ish
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Warnings (if any) in subject lines.

((OOC NOTE: Anything in bold is closed to one thread, though group threads a-okay.
Feel free to turn this into action brackets if The Spirit Moves You.
Wildcards welcome, bespoke starters available upon request.))

Comments

cassius;

[satinet]

PLEASURE

--But thank fuck not everyone in the Gallows is so damned industrious, because all of that sounds exhausting.

Which is exactly what Cassius' official opinion on the subject would be were anyone foolish enough to inquire. Some people, it turns out, are simply not built for exposure to bitter winter winds or for wading through two miserable feet of snow. And the best of those people - the ones who are either very clever or very lucky (or, Maker willing, some fortunate combination of both) - make it a point not to be caught dead out of doors under such conditions. No, but thank you. He will instead retire to whatever pockets of warmth might be found in the Gallows and rebuff utterly any effort to make him feel guilty for doing so.

And so, in no particular order:

Cassius, comfortably ensconced near the great big hearth at the end of the dining hall with back to the fire while he peruses a selection of correspondence over a modest breakfast; Cassius, sunk as close to chin deep in the heated waters as a Riftwatch bath will allow; and Cassius, making his way down a winding series of stairs with a burning brazier literally following in his very footsteps--it floats a few inches off the ground, drifting after him as if tied by an invisible string.

bathtime.

[tender]

Finding someone else there already isn't necessarily a moodkiller on it's own. It's a communal space, after all. Derrica isn't so worried. But this is someone she recognizes as newly arrived, and still more or less a mystery to her. And that more than anything else shifts the ease of her expression, draws up a guarded, polite air as she crosses the room.

"Hello," is the first thing said, in the same breath as Derrica lowers herself to sit at the edge of the bath with her feet in the water. The small box in her hands is revealed to contain bath oils, which Derrica lines up one by one by one at the edge to contemplate.

In the course of humming over the bottles, she offers, "I'm Derrica," with the prompting up-tilt of tone that begs an introduction in return.

[satinet]

Having successfully all but melted into the hot water of the bath, with his eyes closed and his head tipped back to rest against the edge of the pool's basin, Cassius at first doesn't respond. Hello is such inauspicious thing all on its own; for all he knows, it might be something said in passing and by the time he opens his eyes the speaker will have moved on to their own personal corner of the bathing pool and he will have excavated himself from this perfect state of relaxation for nothing.

So it is the sound of some body part--feet and presumably the ankles and calves attached to them as well--broaching the surface of the water which prompts Cassius to open one eye. And once that one eye is opened--

Well.

At that point, there can hardly be any harm in looking with both.

Languid as a cat is about stretching in the sun, Cassius hooks one elbow on the edge of the pool and uses it to leverage himself a few degrees out of his relaxed slump.

"Enchanter Black. I'd offer you my hand, Derrica, but it's rather pruney at the moment."

brazier

[altusimperius]

It's easy enough to pass one person down the winding stairs when one is in a hurry, but a person and a currently-on-fire brazier is another thing entirely with the constant turning.

Arms full of scrolls, Benedict has been suffering behind him for about a minute now, but his patience begins to run out as he kicks it by accident for the third time.

"Can you not just hold a torch like a civilized person?" he snaps, cursing under his breath as one of the scrolls tips off the pile and falls to roll dangerously near the flame.

[satinet]

"I could. But there I was in my rooms writing a letter"--which presumably is in the stack of papers he holds up as they continue their descent, all of this done without a backward glance to the walking scroll rack behind him. The stairs are steep, you see, and he'd prefer to avoid slipping--"To Madame Dupuis, and it occurred to me that if I put out the brazier when I left to see it and these others delivered that the coals might radiate heat for hours yet. And what a waste that would be--to heat an empty room.

"So I asked myself, Why Cassius, you crafty bastard, why not simply take the thing with you when you make your way to the library? Then it can do its work there too. And myself couldn't think of a compelling argument not to. So here we are."

The lit brazier bobs faintly, drifting higher and then lower by minor degrees as if nodding vaguely in agreement.

[altusimperius]

Immediately regretting he asked, Benedict grits his teeth, cursing as he lurches to avoid it and another scroll goes bouncing down the stairs ahead of him.

"And you couldn't float it in front of you?"

breakfast;

[pittance]

Look, he's sharing. Obviously: You don't just drag in a bunch of your own cheese and keep it for yourself.

"Me, I don't know," Halfway into an explanation of twin Young Woman with Nugs, "Guess I don't see the point. If they both look the same —"